


The Mummy returns

by Zeckarin



Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [19]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Heaven is the worst, Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Ted the Mummy, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22625581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale drink a lot in an Egyptian tomb, then steal a mummy.This is the plot.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523585
Comments: 9
Kudos: 112





	The Mummy returns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [megzseattle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/megzseattle/gifts).



> February's ficlets #7
> 
> Ifirst called this story "Have you met Ted ?"(which I found hilarious) before realising there was a MUCH more fitting title.^^
> 
> Today's (tardive, since it was supposed to be the 7th !) prompt is :  
> "-What is your prob-"  
> "-YOU ! YOU ARE MY PROBLEM !"
> 
> It was fun to write, and I want to thank my dear friend megzseattle for this story. I wouldn't have thought of stealing a mummy without you Meg !

659 BC

They’d had too much wine.

This was the only clear thought in Aziraphale’s head. All the rest was blurry, from how they ended up here to why there were currently carrying a 1000 years old mummy in the desert, but the wine thing was clear as day.

They had been drinking. A. Lot.

It was all Crowley’s fault. HE had been the one to talk about it first.

* * *

“I was there when they buried the Pharaoh.”

“Which one, my dear ?”

“You know. The tall one. With the… false beard thingy.”

Aziraphale pondered. “The golden beard ? Or the green one ?”

“Green.”

“Oh. I thought his tomb had been lost.”

“Buried. But not alone,” added the demon, tapping the side of his nose knowingly.

“Humans can be so barbaric,” had muttered Aziraphale, reaching out for the bottle of wine they’d bought from the nomad tribe they had encountered an hour ago and succeeding in grabbing it at the second attempt. He remembered that awful custom of burying slaves alive with their masters. They’d saved some of them through the centuries, but there was only so much a lone angel and demon could do.

“I know where it is. Remember it. Demon’s memory,” bragged the demon, poking at his temple with a knowing air. “All that good wine, lost to the world. Shame.”

The angel frowned, his mind trying to forget about the poor slaves slowly dying in the dark for no reason.

“What ? What do you mean, wine ?”

“Wine. Loads and loads of wine, buried with the Pharaoh.”

“Why ?”

“He loved the wine, that’s why. That’s all he wanted to take with him. Even freed his slaves.”

“He _freed_ his slaves ?” erupted Aziraphale with trembling lips. “For real ?”

“Yep. Didn’t want them to drink the wine, I guess,” answered Crowley, fishing the bottle from the angel’s hand to refill his own goblet.

“This was good of him. I am sure he got straight to Heaven,” declared a misty eyed Aziraphale.

“You’re so sloshed, angel.”

“Am not !”

That’s when Crowley had had this stupid idea.

“We should drink **more** ! To the nice Pharaoh !” the demon’s eyes widened under a stroke of genius. “We should drink his _wine_ !”

“His wine ? What wine ?” blurted the angel, frowning with concentration.

“The wine they buried with him, Aziraphale. Just _told_ you that.”

“Did you then ?” asked the confused angel. “Well… I guess he can’t drink it _himself_...”

“We would be doing him a favour. Wouldn’t want it to waste, right ?”

“But it has been soooo long… it’s probably wasted already.”

“Only one tiny millennia. It must be pref… pertf… very good now. Let’s go !”

“What ? Now ? But it is the middle of the night ! And I am supposed to go to Assyria for a blessing. Ashurbanipal has started to gather tablets together. Thousands of them ! I could study them all without having to travel everywhere, Crowley ! I bet there is enough of it to read for several hours. _Hours_ , do you imagine ?”

“It won’t take long ! You’ll be reading your boring stories tomorrow, cross my heart ! Plus, Egypt is just next door to your assignment.”

* * *

Aaaaand here they were. Sloshed, in the middle of a desert. At night, of course. The wine had been atrocious, but a quick miracle had remedied that. There had been a _lot_ of bottles. Aziraphale was fairly certain that drinking them all had taken at least two months. He felt slightly guilty about it. Heaven was probably angry at him for abandoning his post for so long (turned out, they didn’t even notice).

He couldn’t remember whose idea it had been to take the mummy with them. When you spend eight weeks drinking a guy’s wine, you are bound to… bond with him, dead or alive. None of them remembered the Pharaoh’s name, so they’d taken to calling him Ted, which, in Aziraphale’s opinion, was a ridiculous name, but Crowley was adamant it would be the rage someday. So, when the wine had ran out, neither of them had been willing to leave poor Ted behind.

Crowley was leading the way, holding Ted’s feet behind his back and slightly weaving right and left. He had no idea as to where he was heading, but he was going there with style.

Aziraphale was admiring the surroundings, missing steps and stopping at inappropriate times, which had caused Crowley to drop the mummy’s feet regularly. For the hundredth time, Aziraphale didn’t notice his friend stopping, and Ted’s feet bumped heavily into the softer part of Crowley’s anatomy, making him yelp inelegantly and drop the feet once more before turning around to face the angel, his last thread of patience snapping for good.

“Oi ! Are you fucking kidding me ! I told you to stop, literally one second ago, you deaf angel !”

Aziraphale’s pleasant musing was abruptly cut short and he came back to reality rather sharply. Crowley looked absolutely pissed off, which was unsettling.

“My dear, what is your pro-”

“YOU ! YOU ARE MY PROBLEM !”

The words were not supposed to land that hard. The two of them were used to yelling at each other on a regular basis, and it helped an awful lot to have someone you could get mad at without fear of killing them inadvertently.

Getting angry at the other and saying things they didn’t really think was part of what was not yet called the Agreement. They knew better than to take it seriously.

Usually.

Crowley was already gathering more words in his blurry mind to throw at the angel’s face. He knew he would need them, Aziraphale’s retaliation would be swift and merciless.

He was still more than fairly drunk and irate, and didn’t notice the tears gathering in his friend’s eyes.

“You… you are so MEAN ! I am doing my best ! It’s not my fault if I am useless !”

“Ngk. Whot ? I didn’t say-”

But the angel wasn’t listening, clearly on a rant.

“If you didn’t want to steal mummies with me, you should have said so ! I am sure lots of your demons friends would be happy to help you !”

“What the… Aziraphale, what the heck are you talking about ? You’re making absolutely no sense at all !”

“Are you calling me _stupid_ ?” shouted Aziraphale in a high pitched voice, dropping Ted’s upper body on the sand.

“I didn’t, but since you said it, yes ! You’re acting completely daft, you daft stupid moron !”

The angel schooled his features into a scowl and nodded stiffly.

“Well then. I am obviously not needed here. You can keep the mummy, I am out of here.”

“I don’t want your blasted mummy !” yelled Crowley as loud as he could in the hope it would trigger his angel into their familiar interactions. He shouted, Aziraphale shouted back, that’s how it always had worked.

But the angel simply turned back and walked away, his strides so regular Crowley realised he must have sobered up in the last minute.

“Angel ! Aziraphale ! Where are you… oh, bother !”

With a wince, he miracled the alcohol out of his system before running after his friend.

Catching up wasn’t that difficult. Had Aziraphale really wanted to go where Crowley couldn’t follow, he just had to Appear in a holy place, like a temple.

“Angel ! Stop, you stup… ah… just… stop, okay ? What did I do ?”

With a sigh, his friend did stop and sat on the sand.

“Nothing. You did nothing.”

Crowley gingerly sat next to him, careful not to touch him inadvertently.

“I… yelled a little loudly, maybe. Was a bit over the top.”

This was as close to an apology Crowley could get.

“It’s not… not that. Exactly. It’s what you said. That I was your problem.”

“It’s just words, Aziraphale,” said the demon softly. “You know that, right ?”

“I do, of course. I know _you_ do not consider me a problem.”

Crowley pouted. Of _bloody_ course.

“Are you by any chance inferring you are someone else’s problem ?”

“Maybe,” mumbled his friend, looking at the horizon.

“What did he say exactly ?” growled the demon.

“Who ?”

“Don’t play daft. Gabriel. What did Gabriel say ?”

“Same as you, almost. That I was his biggest problem. It was not a very good yearly review… Michael and Uriel were there too.”

“Why ? Why did they consider you a _problem_ ? You saved an entire town from being burned to the ground by invaders not three months ago !”

“Well, that _is_ the problem, actually. I was supposed to make sure the burning occurred.”

“Oh. That’s… I’m sorry, did we change head offices ? I’m pretty sure burning towns with people inside is more my kind of a gig.”

“You’re ridiculous. You would never do that.”

“Course I would ! I’m a demon ! That’s insulting, angel !”

“Crowley, I _saw_ you smuggle all these people out into the mountains.”

The demon crossed his arms and looked pointedly away.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course. Silly me.”

A companionable silence fell, and Crowley relaxed as he saw the tension gradually leaving his friend. He was kind of dozing off when Aziraphale jumped on his feet with a gasp.

“Ted !”

Crowley startled and looked around frantically, expecting an army of demons (or worse, angels) ready to discorporate them on the spot.

There was no one around, and he could see miles away in every direction.

“What the _heck_ ?” he snapped, frowning at his friend.

“We forgot Ted, Crowley !”

 _Oh_.

They looked around. The wind had erased their footsteps. No way in Heaven they would find their friend now.

“You know what ?” asked Crowley, leaning back on his elbows, “He’s had got a good life. May he rest in peace.”

“Amen to that,” answered the angel, sitting back, deliberately ignoring the dirty look his choice of words elicited.

* * *

Soho, 2020.

Crowley was _bored_. It didn’t happen a lot since the not end of the world, but this was one of _th_ _o_ _se_ days. He didn’t care for a nap, didn’t feel like drinking, and felt restless.

He sighed heavily. Even his _phone_ held no interest.

If only some customer could come in, he would have something to occupy himself with.

He couldn’t even bother the angel, Aziraphale being in Tadfield for ice cream with the Them. Since Crowley had taken the habit to go teach some demonic self control to Adam once a week, Aziraphale had decided to pop there on his own regularly, not wanting to become the least favourite uncle for lack of _quality time_ with their godson.

Eventually, the demon headed upstairs to rummage through the angel’s old stuff.

The apartment over the bookshop was his domain (except of course the kitchen), mostly crowded with his plants, paintings and furniture. The large flat TV screen wasn’t working as frequently as in his ancient lodgings, but Aziraphale liked an historical movie once in a while, and Crowley liked nothing more than binge-watching Golden Girls or James Bond every few months.

Before Crowley’s moving in, though, this place had been used as a storage room. Which mean some other space had been created for Aziraphale’s junk.

Crowley entered the bedroom. He always felt a little guilty seeing the gigantic bed and fluffy pillows. Aziraphale obviously had tried his best to make the room cosy for him, knowing his love of sleep. Still, Crowley preferred the backroom’s sofa. He loved that sofa. The old thing had welcomed him in dire times these last centuries, and the backroom was too closely related with _safety_ and _comfort_ in his mind. The sofa was the only spot he had felt perfectly at ease when they were still working for their respective sides. He wouldn’t abandon it now they had nothing left to fear.

Crossing the bedroom, the demon opened the little wooden door near the window. He entered what _looked_ like an attic, but couldn’t be one since this wall of the bedroom looked directly above the street. Boxes, trunks, shelves, dozens of shelves.

Crowley grinned. There were lots of memories there. He certainly could unearth something embarrassing before the angel’s return.

Whistling, he started to dig.

The bookshop was alarmingly silent.

Aziraphale knew Crowley was there, and his friend spent a good quarter of his time sleeping on the couch, but the silence was of a different quality this day.

The angel entered the darkened back room with a sinking feeling of doom. The light switching on blinded him for a second, and he recognised Crowley’s voice before seeing him, sitting on one of the armchairs, a large trunk at his feet.

_Oh._ Oh, Lord. He knew that trunk.

“Nice outing, angel ?” asked the demon sweetly.

Aziraphale smiled nervously.

“Yes, it was… it was delightful, truly...”

“I found something interesting while you were out. Care to explain ?”

“Well, my dear… you see… I…” Aziraphale was good at several things, but one of his specialities was to turn things around to his advantage. Destabilising the adversary. Distracting and diverting. He straightened his back and took a righteous expression.

“You had no right to search my personal belongings, Crowley !”

_You bastard_ , thought Crowley with  utter  delight.

“I’m a demon. Searching personal belongings is literally part of my job description.”

“It was a violation of my privacy !”

The demon corked and eyebrow. “You mean you don’t trust me anymore ?”

Aziraphale made a face. That was low.

“We will have to talk about boundaries, my dear.”

“Yeah. About that… since when did boundaries included smuggling your buddies in bloody trunks ? Hmmm ?”

Still sitting, the demon kicked the trunk opened.

Ted, a little worse for wear, was folded in three inside.

“Ah. About that,” declared the angel, fidgeting with his waistcoat.

“Yeaaah ?” drawled his friend, grinning widely.

“I may have felt a little guilty for abandoning him. He had been such good company, and we had a wonderful time together. I couldn’t let him to die in a desert !”

“He’s dead already, angel ! Why didn’t you tell me ?”

“I… don’t know. I felt like saving him. I… imagine I thought you would make fun of me,” added Aziraphale with a pointed look.

“M’not ! Not making fun ! Who ? Me ? Absolutely not ! Why is he inside a trunk ?”

“Oh. I didn’t have another place for him. He’s been in there for a long time, and I think he liked it.”

“Well… maybe we could let him out now. Nobody’s gonna enter the back room, and if they did it would be quite dissuading to see a real mummy looking at them.”

“I think you made a very good point, my dear,” declared Aziraphale before snapping his fingers.

The Pharaoh’s mummy suddenly found itself sitting on one of the angel’s most comfy chairs. Aziraphale tilted his head.

“Oh. Crowley… come and take a look.”

“What ? I know the bloody bugger, Aziraphale. We drank with him. For two bloody months. Nothing has changed.”

“ _Something_ has changed. We are not _drunk_.”

“Well we can remedy to that,” joked the demon.

“Crowley, just look, please.”

Crowley looked. Squinted his eyes. Gasped. Looked again.

“What the… Ted is a _girl_ ?! That’s impossible ! I knew him, he was… he was…”

They exchange a glance. Aziraphale seemed delighted.

“This is _not_ the Pharaoh’s mummy. But she was in his sarcophagus. Who the _flames_ is that girl ?” asked a stunned demon.

“I have _no_ idea,” answered the angel in glee.

**Author's Note:**

> Next prompt ?  
> "Do you remember the last time we did this ?"


End file.
